


i move thee forth, all dutiful soldiers

by thebetterbina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter is Not a Horcrux, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, M/M, War with Grindelwald, harry is a statue, idk where dumblefuck is, like one of those vatican angel statues, tom is in his seventh year when grindelfuck attacks hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebetterbina/pseuds/thebetterbina
Summary: Tom’s always loved Hogwarts.Her captivating beauty and enchanting high stone walls will always be his first home, where he’s spent seven years walking her hallways and learning her corridors, every nook, and cranny that made up the historical site through which students of every magical generation must pass.He’d taken care to learn about his home, her past, and every carving that made up her structure. From the foundations that were laid in the time of the founders, to the strong wards that protected her, strengthened through the years.In particular, he’s always admired the statues.Tom Riddle falls in love with one of Hogwarts' statues.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 15
Kudos: 293





	i move thee forth, all dutiful soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> beta done by my wife [liz ♡](https://twitter.com/lizardayo)
> 
> inspired by [that one scene](https://carciphona.com/read.php#volume=5&chapter=14&page=169&lang=en) from the webcomic carciphona, please check it out the story and art are a+

Tom’s always loved Hogwarts. 

Her captivating beauty and enchanting high stone walls will always be his first home, where he’s spent seven years walking her hallways and learning her corridors, every nook, and cranny that made up the historical site through which students of every magical generation must pass. 

He’d taken care to learn about his home, her past, and every carving that made up her structure. From the foundations that were laid in the time of the founders, to the strong wards that protected her, strengthened through the years. 

In particular, he’s always admired the statues.

High and towering, protecting the walls and ready to jump at a moment’s command. Those statues dotted the entirety of Hogwarts, from the great armored soldiers to the simplest of stone carved rabbits. Tom knows the soldiers were commissioned by Godric, who’d wanted a front line of defense in the times when the school had been small and vulnerable to attacks. The smaller statues were added overtime, by various Headmaster and Headmistresses, more as a token gesture than anything else.

But the statues that always get his attention, the ones he’d initially noticed as a tiny first year looking at Hogwarts for the first time in daylight, were the sentinels.

Sculpted like Muggle angels, bodies and faces of humans but with wide flaring wings—each had a spear in hand, ready to subjugate evil as the Archangel Michael had been. They sat atop the school, high above any of the other statues, and had been a gift from the other wizarding school—Beauxbatons—back when the school had just started and was looking for a friendly alliance with Hogwarts. 

The mastercraftsman had taken time to ensure each angel had its own identity. Tom is almost certain if you blindfolded him he’d be able to tell you about them. There’s one with short-cropped hair, a strong jaw and a chiseled body to match. One of the females has long, billowing hair, fierce eyes, and a sharp nose. Tom isn’t sure himself why these details never fail to escape him, but he’s certain among all the stone statues that guarded Hogwarts walls, Tom doesn’t deny the sentinels being the most beautiful.

* * *

_ Piertotum Locomotor _ —he’s heard the charm whispered by the Headmaster more than once. Dippet is a genial old man, never even chastised Tom when he’d caught him prying that first time, watching Dippet cast the spell to animate the sentinels. And he’d stared, entranced, as each wing of the angels had twitched and fluttered like a bird. They’d stretched from their perch, only for Tom to watch them fall; one by one in perfect coordination until the first had landed on the ground without so much as a sound. The angels knelt, head bowed in quiet subservience while Dippet ran withered fingers through animated hair. Looking as soft as any tousled locks despite Tom knowing it was made entirely of stone.

The first to land, Tom always remembers, is one of the male angels; Dippet had kindly explained even  _ they _ had their own rankings, and the boy—Dippet had affectionately named him  _ Harry _ as they never kept official names—was their lead.

Despite his rank, Harry was smaller than most of the others, but only minutely so. Dippet would tell him he suspected Harry was the very first to be carved and that his size was an error on the smiths part—which was corrected in the other sentinels, as their sizes and wingspans could be compared to an adult Hippogriff. But it’s not as if these claims could be confirmed. The sentinels, like all the statues of Hogwarts, did not speak. They watched, certainly, carved eyes boring into Tom—and he wonders what color they would be if Harry was human.

(He thinks green, green like the lush grass Hogwarts sprawled on. Green would be nice.)

* * *

Tom is in his seventh year when the school comes under attack.

The Muggle war had taken its toll on the world, its effects bleeding into Wizarding communities; then came Grindelwald and his ideals, marching through Europe then finally setting foot on Britain and eventually, Hogwarts. 

As Head Boy, he has a duty to the school, and most of all her students. So he directs the Prefects with all calm and control he’s learned, ushering the panicked and tearful to the Great Hall. The teachers were outside, prepared to be the first line of defense if the wards fell—he waits and makes sure all students are accounted for, patiently listening through the stutters and sniffles of the Prefects rattling off their numbers. Only once he’s made sure there’s not a name missing from each House does Tom make his way outside, accompanied by the Head Girl who he knows is just as terrified. 

The wards are a glossy shimmer, unnoticeable on any normal day but tonight they gleam against the dark sky, tested by the heavy spells of the devoted followers of Grindelwald. Dippet is a solemn figure, face pinched in displeasure but otherwise calm.

“Headmaster forgive me, but is it safe for you to be here?” Tom finds himself questioning, lacing his tone with a tinge of worry.

“Whatever do you mean Tom?”

“The wards are tied to you, so forgive me if I’m wrong, but if you’re hurt then the wards fall, is that right?”

For a brief moment, Dippet smiles, then nods, “Smart boy. Yes, that is correct, but worry not. In the event I should fall, then it will be keyed to the Assistant Headmaster. Besides, you forget, we have fighters ready to defend Hogwarts’ and her walls.”

Dippet turns then, raising his ward, a beautiful dark ebony—and mutters the incantation  that left too great an impression on Tom to ever forget.

“ _ Piertotum Locomotor. _ ”

Tom watches with bated breath, he’d learned the spell activated when the caster focused on which statues to animate—so it’s really no surprise when he sees the first to move are the tall stone soldiers, dropping from their perches and shaking the earth with their stomps. They move in perfect coordination, one after the other, until all have left the wall; leaving patches of empty space where they once stood quietly. 

But what really catches his attention is when his eyes are drawn up, up to the very top of Hogwarts’ towers, to the angels, and he’s left in the same awe he feels every time he watches them animate. Harry is the first, always the first, but this time Tom can tell it’s a little different. For this time there’s no lazy stretch of wings, the statues heads snap instantly to where Grindelwald and his Hitwizards are. He watches the imperious swish of Harry’s spear as the rest of the angels seem to tense, then, in what Tom can only describe as a lyrical voice, he hears Harry speak for the very first time.

“ _ Subjugate the hostiles. _ ”

They drop from the skies like battlefield valkyries, soaring and piercing the air with their speed. They pass the stone soldiers, and meet the Wizards outside the wards first. It’s a battle that Tom can’t see clearly—but considering the screams, the flashes of colors of spells being cast, and the considerable lack of any of the stone angels falling he can guess the outcome. A part of Tom wonders if anyone told them these statues were impervious to spells. To break through them he considers a person would have to ally themselves to the mountain trolls or a brute force beast capable of breaking them physically.

It’s a bit lackluster once the stone soldiers reach the battle, and the flashes of Disapparation are comforting enough that the nearest teacher to Tom releases a sigh of relief. The statues make their way over once the last of the wizards leave, the soldiers halting before rigidly taking their position to uniformly march their way back. The angels glide, most of them quickly and rather quietly making their way back up the towers to rest in their familiar positions. Harry, unmistakable to Tom because of his size, is the only one that remains—making a couple turns around the battlefield, seeming to assess the state of the area, before fluttering with a graceful turn of wing to land beside Tom and Dippet, his head canted serenely downward in a familiar show of subservience towards the Headmaster.

“Thank you, Harry, you can rest now.”

Harry doesn’t reply, and a part of Tom is a little disappointed, wondering what exactly would trigger a verbal response to hear that lyrical voice again; still, he watches the statue rise, face turning to meet Tom’s. There isn’t any look of comprehension, but Tom swears for a moment—just for a second, the beautiful statue  _ smiles _ before taking to the air in a powerful beat of wings.

* * *

He makes a quiet promise to himself to become Headmaster, if only to see that smile again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm active [on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/therealconnor60)! (´,,•ω•,,)♡


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